


mercilessly

by Maglana



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:20:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25861219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maglana/pseuds/Maglana
Summary: Dutch's daughter is kidnapped by O'Driscoll's with the full intent of delivering her to Colm O'Driscoll himself.*This is not an 'x Reader' format fic, the tag 'Colm O'Driscoll/Original Female Character' isn't available.*
Relationships: Colm O'Driscoll/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	mercilessly

The town named Mellow Landing wasn’t much to look at, though neither was any town around these parts. It was a town set up not too far from a large lake, the body of water a key way of transporting goods in and out of the town. On the other side of town were farmlands stretching for miles, and for such a busy town, not much ever seemed to happen. It lived up to it’s name of  _ mellow _ , that’s for sure. The wagon rolling into town didn’t seem to raise any eyebrows, everyone so busy with their everyday lives and perhaps they were used to travellers passing through.

It made Lucy feel good that they weren’t drawing any suspicion for once, the last town they had been in wasn’t so welcoming when it came to strangers. On her horse, a black American Standardbred named Licorice, she trotted behind a wagon controlled by John Marston. The women in the camp -- Karen, Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Abigail -- along with Jack Marston were chatting happily to each other. Things were definitely looking up for all of them, and Lucy was glad to see them in such high spirits.

“Lucy! We’re gon’ park up here,” John called back, getting her attention. She moved to the side of the wagon, not feeling like shouting her business for the street to hear even if it was as innocent as buying a new saddle.

“I’m going ahead to the stable, I’ll meet you in the saloon when I’m done,” Lucy informed him, knowing that she was meant to stick with John because her father told her to, but John wasn’t uptight. He let her go ahead alone, knowing that the younger girl could handle herself. She was 20 years old and had a gun, there was no need to babysit her like Dutch insisted. John watched as she moved toward the stables on the other side of town, before following Karen and the women into the Saloon while Abigail and Jack walked toward the tailors.

Though, little did the group know that a certain group of men had their eyes on them the moment they arrived. The town was  _ owned _ ; it was property of Colm O’Driscoll. There were men and women alike all over the town who were loyal to Colm, and all it took was one man to recognise the group. They recognised John Marston and they recognised Lucy Van der Linde. It was the decision that Lucy was an easier target than John, being alone in the stables, out of view from her friends. So, they followed the girl as she guided her horse into the stable, waiting for her to be distracted talking to the stablehand.

Admittedly, she was a very attractive girl. They would need to take her  _ alive _ and to Colm as soon as possible; this could gain them so much respect within the gang. Deliver a girl of high importance that happens to be  _ exactly _ Colm’s type? She was short, around 5’4 and slim, the type of build that could be controlled easily by a man of Colm’s tall stature. The way her brunette hair was so delicately styled with no hairs out of place and her lips were painted pink gave her an air of innocence, though her soft red shirt unbuttoned just low enough to show off some cleavage and her patterned skirt hitched up just enough to expose her clean white drawers showed that she wasn’t as innocent under the rosy cheeks. Colm would take great delight in this gift; the daughter of Dutch Van der Linde.

“Alright, three of us go in and the other two go fetch a wagon, pull it in around the other side of the stable.” The leader of the small group instructed, sending two men away to fetch the wagon they had brought into town. “Archer, keep an eye on the doors when we get in.” The leader added, then the remaining three men walked toward the stable, watching as Lucy spoke the stablehand. At first it seemed like the men were simply browsing the different saddles and equipment on display in the large barn, until one of the doors was pulled closed by Archer, blocking the view of the street. The leader put a firm hand on the shoulder of the stablehand, telling the boy to scram.

Naturally, Lucy was anxious. She tensed up, glancing around as the stablehand left the building without any hesitation and she was left alone with three unfamiliar men. Each one of them had a gun on their belt, just like she did. She stepped away from the leader, not liking how close he was standing to her; and the larger man stood too tall over her for her liking, as if he was trying to intimidate her with his presence alone. It was working, and she hoped that he couldn’t see that. 

“Good morning doll,” The leader spoke gently, as if he was a friendly figure. “Don’t look so frightened, we only want to talk… You know this is  _ O’Driscoll _ land, don’t you?” He questioned, and instinctively Lucy reached for her gun. The large man lunged for it, wanting to pull it from her hands and he succeeded but not before a shot was fired; hitting a metal bucket not too far from the leader’s shoulder. The horses panicked at the gunshot and Licorice let out a shrill sound before bucking his legs, a hoove coming into hard contact with the large man’s ribs. He let out a scream unlike any she had heard as he stumbled into a desk, almost knocking her down in the process.

The third man rushed around to camp the horse, keep the beast from kicking out again or trampling someone, as Lucy’s custom revolver was knocked into some hay by the leader. The leader then jumped at Lucy, shoving her into a wall and knocking her head hard. He pulled his lasso from his belt and forced her hands behind her back. He made quick work of tying her up, leaving her legs free as he pulled her toward the back entrance of the stables. Someone was bound to come looking and fast, they had to move before they were seen. The wagon was just backing into the space behind the stables when the leader shoved his bandana into Lucy’s mouth, and he practically threw her at one of the men.

“Hide her fast! Finish gagging her,” He instructed, and the men obeyed. Without a word, Lucy was dragged into the wagon and forced to lay down, the man threatening to knock her out with his gun if she didn’t comply; they also tied her legs; the knots sloppy but enough to stop her from kicking them as if she too were a startled horse. In front of her, the large man was also pulled into the back of the wagon and the third man was sat on top of Licorice, struggling to keep the horse calm. 

“Cover her up quickly,” The leader ordered and the man who had tied her legs made sure that she was out of view behind some boxes; Lucy tried to knock them out of the way with her legs but the man had a hand on his gun as he threatened her;  _ Colm would want you alive, girl. That doesn’t mean untouched. _

She was scared. John and the women were literally in the same street as her as this went down, surely one of them heard the gun; when would they realise that she was  _ gone _ ? Would they think that she ran away if Licorice was gone too? Not to mention that they had no idea that O’Driscoll’s were in the area… Her mind was going a mile a minute, and the man laughed as he looked down at her. 

“Jim, you take that horse of hers,” She heard the leader talking to his men. “Archer, you sit in the back with these two, I’ll follow on my horse back to camp. You get this wagon to camp fast,” He instructed, and God knows what would happen when she arrived at wherever they took her, Colm’s gang terrified her. There were too many men to remember the names of, and it was unusual to her that these ones knew who she was. Dutch had done his best to keep her away from the O’Driscoll gang, and she was hardly as notorious as John or Arthur; it must be the personal connection she has to Dutch that made them want to take  _ her _ . That, and she was such an easy target… Maybe her father was right; she did need John with her for something as simple as buying a new saddle.

The rough man left the wagon and Archer entered, and he took off his jacket before sitting down. He laid the deep green jacket over her, obscuring her more. If anyone saw her, they would just see the supplies and a jacket laying over them. The wagon started moving, making her jolt in surprise, and the men didn’t seem to ride through town. Instead, they took ‘the long route’ around the town to avoid detection given that one of her friends might see Licorice. It wasn’t often that one came across such a fine pure-black horse, and her saddle seemed somewhat unique.

The men talked among themselves, about things that Lucy knew very little about. She heard them discussing a plan, however; they were going to a campsite that the men had set up somewhere near-ish town. It was still quite a ride and they seemed certain that no one from her gang would find them, at least not in time. The leader had decided that they would stop there for a few hours and prepare for the longer journey directly to Colm, a trip that could supposedly take  _ days _ depending on the weather. They talked about how they would transport her, seemingly coming to the conclusion that she would be tied up in a caravan -- but with better cover and more men to keep an eye on her, they didn’t want to risk losing such a good prize. 

When they arrived at the camp about half of an hour later, Lucy was on the verge of throwing up from the way the wagon shook on the bumpy trail. She felt no better when Archer dragged her from the back of the wagon, but he cut the ties binding her ankles so that he could walk her into camp; and she was right. The camp was quite large and full of armed outlaws that she didn’t know the names of; not a single familiar face in sight. Archer marched her straight into the lion’s den, following the leader as they walked toward a large tent set up in the centre. The men were faster than her and she struggled to keep up without stumbling, and soon they came to a stop outside of the tent.

“Boss? We got something good,” The leader spoke, opening the flaps of the tent and walking inside, Archer pushed her inside, and the leader presented her proudly like a trophy. An older man stood before them, and Lucy felt like he was familiar. He wasn’t Colm, but he had to be an old friend of Colm, because she was almost positive that she had met this man before or at least seen him. A smile spread across the man’s face; he recognised her. 

“Little Lucille Van der Linde,” He practically wheezed as he laughed. “You’re a long way from home, and not so little anymore.” The look in his eye was predatory, and he pulled up a chair from his desk and instructed the leader to sit her in it. “'You taking her to Colm?” The boss questioned the leader as he secured her legs to the chair, making the ropes tight. She wouldn’t get out of this, not easily and not at all. 

“Yeah, thought we’d bring her here first to get the covered caravan. Don’t want anyone to see her.” The leader told the boss his plan, and the boss gave his permission to use the caravan and take extra men with him. This is far too good to be true, the boss mused. “You gon’ keep an eye on her while I prepare the trip?” He questioned, moving to the opening of the tent. The boss nodded, sending the leader away. Once he was gone, the boss sat down in his own chair again and pulled her closer; the chair dragging on the wooden platform. 

“You really ain’t so little no more, darlin’,” He spoke, and Lucy didn’t like the tone his voice had taken. The boss reached for his whiskey and two dirty shot glasses, pouring out two drinks. “How old’re you now?” He questioned, reaching forward to remove her gag and Lucy contemplated not talking. It was only her age, though, it wasn’t as if he was asking her for her secrets. Not yet, at least.

“I’m twenty,” She answered, and the man raised one of the glasses to her lips. She didn’t want it, turning her head away. A few drops dripped onto her shirt as the boss moved, gripping her face roughly with one hand. He demanded that she drink, and not wanting to be hurt, Lucy complied and drank the whiskey. It was only whiskey, afterall. She wouldn’t say anything, even drunk -- and she didn’t want to get hurt any further.

“Good girl,” He praised her, setting the glass down when she had swallowed every drop. He threw back his own shot before grabbing her skirt, lifting it up to her knees. “'You ever been touched before?” He asked, moving his hand between her thighs and searching the opening of her drawers.

Before she could get too loud, the boss pulled his knife from the desk and held it to her throat. She knew that Colm would want her alive, she could easily scream and this man wouldn’t be able to do anything; well, Colm didn’t know that they had her. He would never know if she was here and killed, and that was the only thing that stopped her from screaming.

“Well? You ever been touched by a man?” He pushed her for the answer, his fingers finally getting past the opening and into contact with Lucy’s cunt. Lucy whimpered, unable to close her thighs without trapping his hand there. His hand was surprisingly cold, and he seemed satisfied to just touch her; his fingers pinching her labia and attempting to tease her; but she didn’t want it. That was clear as day by how dry she was.

“I… No one has ever touched me,” Lucy answered, praying to the Lord above that this would make a difference; that he would stop knowing she was a virgin. “Please don’t… Wouldn’t Colm like me better this way? B-Because I will tell him…” She knew that threatening him was likely very pointless, surely Colm wouldn’t care about such a thing. Lucy had heard from her father that Colm was a rapist (among other things), and she knew that virgin or not, once Colm had her she would be completely at his mercy; he would do whatever he pleased to her while she was defenseless. 

The threat seemed to work; the gears turned in his mind and the boss came to the conclusion that she was right. He could scar her now and take her innocence, but Colm? That would be worse for her, and provided that Colm believed her, he knew that Colm wouldn’t hesitate to punish him for taking away that opportunity. He moved his hand back, and there was nothing on it to wipe away, but he did so on the fabric of her drawers. 

“Drink more, doll,” He insisted, bringing the bottle of whiskey to her lips. He saw the unwillingness but that didn't stop him from using his free hand to pinch her nose; it worked and Lucy gave in, drinking some of the whiskey. A lot of it spilled down her chin but he wouldn't take the bottle away, forcing her to swallow as much of it as possible lest her clothes stink of alcohol.

"That's enough," He spoke as he pulled the bottle from her lips, watching as she tried to compose herself as much as possible. The Boss finished off the rest of the bottle and stood from his seat, fumbling with his belt. A blowjob wouldn't make her any less of a virgin, he mused, fishing his cock from his pants. His hand met her jaw again, his other pulling her head down; his cock wasn't anything special, it was meager but stood up seeking her attention. Lucy cringed and turned her head away, though his rough hand in her hair forced her attention to his cock.

"I'm sure you know what to do, girl," He chuckled, forcing her head down and his tip rubbed on her cheek. She felt sick to her core, and tears began to roll down her cheeks. He scoffed, muttering some kind of obscenity, before forcing his cock against her lips. Unwillingly, Lucy parted her lips and he entered her warm mouth, his shaft overwhelming her senses with a rancid taste and smell. Lazily, he thrust against her soft lips as she closed her eyes tight; her face scrunched in disgust. 

She could bite him, though she fully intended to see her family again one day. He took full charge of the situation, not asking much of her as he fucked her mouth. It wasn't long enough to reach the entrance of her throat, though regardless she felt as if she would be sick. Every so often he muttered something about her tongue, or squeezed her cheeks together. His grip remained tear-inducingly tight as he pleasured himself, using her as nothing more than a whore.

"If your cunt is anything like this, Colm is in for a treat," He grunted, starting to fuck her harder. His pelvis hit her nose hard, his pubic hair rubbing against her skin; her lips felt swollen and abused, but judging from the sounds he was making, he had to be close to done. She had overheard Sean and Karen before,  _ unintentionally _ of course, and these were the kind of noises that Sean tended to make when he was close. Lucy did her best to pull her head away, not wanting him to finish in her mouth, though his grip only tightened and his hips bucked hard, her lips meeting his pelvis hard, as he unloaded into her mouth.

The very feeling of his seed hitting her throat made her gag; she wretched as he pulled away, his cum dripping out of her mouth; the only place it could go was onto her clothing. Almost breathless, he laughed at her as she struggled to expel his cum from her mouth, though it was inevitable that she would swallow some of it on accident. The taste leftover on her tongue made her want to tear it from her mouth, and it felt as if she had cried herself to a point of numbness. She couldn't cry, though her disgust was at the forefront of her mind. She had never been used in such a way, defiled by a stranger; an enemy, at that. 

It would only grow worse when she met Colm O'Driscoll himself, Lucy knew that.


End file.
